


mi corazón

by rita5



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Coming of Age, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tattoos, aka the one where sonny turns 18 and makes irresponsible decisions, because you know thats how i do, i think they both have tattoo kinks, im a slut for best friends to lovers, kind of, there's enough backstory that i could build on this if i wanted, when i turned 18 i got a tattoo too its fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9892064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rita5/pseuds/rita5
Summary: sonny gets his first tattoo and pete cries and usnavi is barely present but he's done with both of their shit*changed the rating bc it's not really too detailed but there are mutual orgasms so!





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in one day and im sick and have had a fever all day so it's possible none of this makes any sense but the world needs more pete/sonny fics wtf???? HOW are there so few fics about these two. i love my gay sons. also worth mentioning: i may or may not be buds on facebook with one of these two guys whoops. hopefully soon ill be friends with both of them because hello what the fuck they're both gorgeous. and i think they're both gay IRL too. but WHATEVER. a girl can dream
> 
> also this is equally poetic and stupid??? it doesn't make sense, just go with it.

It was Pete's fault, really, Sonny reasoned with himself as he paced back and forth behind the bodega's cash register. If he wasn't such a damn good artist, Sonny wouldn't be in this mess. But as it was, Pete was the best artist in town and he'd drawn a stunning portrait on a canvas for Sonny's birthday present. Sonny literally got weak in the knees thinking about it. He pulled a barstool around the counter and sat down, leg jittering nervously. His eighteenth birthday was a week ago and the newfound freedom lasted about 24 hours. Usnavi still expected him to show up on time for his shift at the store and he still had access to only a tiny fraction of the lotto funds.

Dumb Usnavi, being smart with money and saving up for college and shit. What a load of bull. Sonny kicked his sneakered toe against the leg of the stool and leaned into the soft light of sunset shining through the window. The bodega glowed orange in the evenings and Sonny always found solace by basking lazily in it until close. The vivid colors flooding the room brought Sonny's mind back to his present situation. Literally, his birthday present and present day situation.

The poster sized canvas hung proudly on his bedroom wall, across from the wall Sonny's bed was pushed against, where Graffiti Pete had spraypainted Sonny's name in bold colors above a grayscale cityscape. The canvas was painted an array of blue, purple, and pink to make a galaxy background. Pete meticulously painted tiny stars in clusters across the galaxy and smack dab in the middle was the most detailed crescent moon Sonny ever saw in his life. It seemed to have waves of depth and if that wasn't enough, along the outer curve of the moon one word was written: "Alabanza!"

Sonny could recognize Pete's curly cursive a mile away; he'd watched Pete scrawl his signature on many receipts (almost every time they ate at a restaurant), had folded up a thousand napkins and paper scraps covered in Pete's doodles, they were all in an old shoebox under his bed. The dude was always sketching, if he didn't have a tool in his hand to create art, he was out of his element completely. Sonny supposed that was the life of a visual artist. As opposed to Sonny, whose form of art was speech, who could sweet talk a waitress or waiter into anything and who could rant a bully to tears and who could deliver a line like a punch to the gut or a knife to the chest. They made a powerful team. Everyone in the barrio knew they were a package deal - if Sonny was invited for dinner, Pete would be there, too. If Pete was pestered by his other friends into attending a dirt bike race, he would show up with an arm slung around Sonny and they would whisper back and forth before deciding as a unit what bike to bid on. Even Usnavi, who pretended to have such a grievance against Pete, never denied Sonny when he begged for Pete to spend the night. They could stay up until the witching hour, Sonny sat on the floor watching the same reruns of Dr Phil and Pete on the couch behind him, using Sonny's back as a stand for his paper while he sketched out his latest commissions.

Sonny shook his head to get his thoughts back on track. He didn't mean to get caught up in thinking about Pete, but it happened more often than not. He imagined the canvas again and focused on the other details he could remember; the names written in a grey so close to transparent that they almost didn't show up against the galaxy background. The names flowed with the galaxy smoothly, beautifully, and made something in Sonny's gut roll over. Pete wrote Abuela's full name along with the names of Sonny's late parents, which, Sonny didn't even know Pete knew their names but the fact that he did was so touching, Sonny felt uncomfortable thinking about it for too long.

Back to the point, the problem wasn't that Pete created an amazing piece of artwork for his totally deserving best friend, the problem was that upon seeing said artwork, Sonny's first thought was, 'that would make a great tattoo' and that thought both took him by surprise and kickstarted a part of his brain he didn't know he had. Pete had tattoos littered across his skin and Sonny loved them all, even the stupid ones. He'd always been a fan of tattoos and always knew he would probably get one someday, but after seeing Pete's newest piece of art, Sonny was borderline obsessed with getting that exact picture inked onto his skin forever.

He wanted to give himself time to really think about it, it was a decision that could have dire consequences. Sonny was well aware of the risks. Especially for a tattoo so big and so detailed, and what if they messed it up? What if he and Pete had a fall out and hated each other three years from now? In the end, Sonny decided those things were out of his control and getting the tattoo was the only thing he could really be in control of. It just felt right. Sonny felt like Pete was too talented and his art was too perfect to just be displayed on paper. When Sonny imagined the moon on his bicep and the galaxy across his shoulder, he got goosebumps. Besides, he was a freshly minted eighteen year old, and what are young adults supposed to do if not make some risky decisions once in a while?

As the sun disappeared and the bodega grew dark, Sonny knew his mind was already made up. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a text to Usnavi.

8:24pm  
To: usmelly  
im about 2 close bodega, nobody been here for the last two hours

8:25pm  
To: usmelly  
also about to make an extremely dumb slightly expensive decision you're either with me or against me cuz

8:27pm  
From: usmelly  
Ughhhh.

8:29pm  
From: usmelly  
Sonny I'm too old to play these games. What are you going to do?????

8:29pm  
To: usmelly  
u know any good tattoo shops around here?

8:31pm  
From: usmelly  
fucks sake. I'm disowning you.

8:32pm  
To: usmelly  
im 18

8:35pm  
From: usmelly  
Youre an idiot

And that's how Sonny ended up in a shiny, clean tattoo parlor with Usnavi at his side, negotiating prices with the artist with crossed arms and new stress lines on his face. Sonny had the childish urge to smooth out Usnavi's forehead with his finger but he knew that would just make it worse and his hands were preoccupied, anyway, holding the most precious canvas in the world. Luckily for him, the artist had someone cancel several appointments, so Usnavi was able to talk her into booking Sonny multiple five hour sessions starting the next day. Sonny shifted his feet nervously as the artist took the canvas and it took a marvelous effort on his part not to snatch out of her hands with gnashing teeth.

When she took a look at Graffiti Pete's painting, the lady let out a low whistle and adjusted her glasses to study it further.

"Wow. Whoever did this has a job offer here, I would love some new art on my walls." She murmured and Sonny flushed with pride.

"I'll pass it on." He said softly. He tried not to linger over the artist - Shannon's shoulder while she made an exact replica of the painting on stencil paper. The end result was perfect. Sonny took over the talking and haggled his way down to a lower price for the same quality of work. He signed a consent form and shook Shannon's hand, everything set for them to start the tattoo the following day.

-

Hiding the unfinished tattoo from Pete for the next week was a challenge. Sonny usually wore tanktops or short sleeve shirts, but the tattoo covered his entire shoulder and upper bicep, so he had to wear shirts with baseballs sleeves to hide the bandage. There was one day where they were strolling through the barrio and Sonny cracked some lame joke, to which Pete's response was to cackle and slap a hand on the tender skin of Sonny's shoulder. He yelped and winced, unable to hide his reaction to the pain searing through his skin. Getting the tattoo wasn't too painful, it felt like getting scratched by a cat continuously but it was tolerable. The skin was sore and bleeding and sensitive, however, so any slight touch caused radiating pain while it healed, and Pete had given him a full on slap. Pete wasn't blind to Sonny's pain; when the younger boy doubled over and winced, he backpedaled fast and leaned in with the most concerned expression Sonny had ever seen on his face.

"Hey, you alright? I didn't mean to hurt you, I mean, I'm sorry." Pete trailed off, the skin above his eyebrows creasing and his hand coming to rest gently on Sonny's forearm. Sonny grimaced, then tried to smile, now that the pain was bearable.

"It's nothing, I just took a nasty fall on my bike, is all." He lied. Pete leapt excitedly in the air and tugged at Sonny's hand.

"Why didn't you tell me?! Let me see it! You know I love me some good scars!" He half-shouted, a toothy grin developing on his face. Sonny chuckled and shook his head, tugging his hand out of Pete's loose grip.

"No, man! It's- It ain't healed enough. I'll let you see it in a few days, okay? Cool?" Sonny urged, hoping Pete would drop the subject until he was ready. Pete fixed him with a strange look but changed the topic, babbling excitedly about some new shoes he was going to trade for.

It felt wrong to lie to his best friend, but the tattoo wouldn't be finished for another night after Shannon cleaned up the edges. Sonny couldn't show Pete an unfinished work, no matter how often Pete shoved sloppy, half sketched drawings in front of his face. This tattoo was the biggest - maybe the only - secret Sonny ever kept from the older man and he was going to do this right, damn it. 

The next few days passed excruciatingly slow, Sonny's tattoo was finally complete and healed enough so that it didn't need a bandage. The pain dulled completely, much to Sonny's relief, until his arm was just slightly sensitive to touch. Sonny locked himself in the bathroom one evening and finally deemed the tattoo ready to show the world. He peeled the tape off his arm, and let his jaw drop at the artwork newly etched into his skin. He was almost breathless as he inspected it in the mirror, twisting and turning, pleased to find that if he wished, he could see every inch of the tattoo in the mirror. The cursive writing was uniquely Pete's and something jolted inside of Sonny when he realized, a part of Pete would be with him for the rest of his life. Sonny gulped and gently taped the bandage back on one last time before exiting the bathroom. He picked his phone up from where it had been tossed carelessly onto his bed and texted Pete.

8:04pm  
To: peets  
yo come to the apartment usnavi's going home with nessa after his shift

8:05pm  
From: peets  
kk be there in 4 min

Sonny texted back a thumbs up emoji and dropped the phone again. He walked around his bed to the window by his nightstand and unlocked the pane. After that, he wasn't sure what to do with himself, so he hopped on the bed and lounged lazily, pulling his hat off his head to twist it between his hands. The nerves were starting to get to him. There was a possibility, a very small one, that Pete would hate his tattoo. And there was no way to take it back. Oh, no, what if getting a tattoo of someone else's art was plagiarism? Actually, that definitely fell under the 'plagiarism' category. Was it stealing if the artist gave him the picture in the first place? Pete never gave express permission for Sonny to get his art tattooed. Oh, god.

Sonny got so lost in his worries that the sound of clanging outside startled him enough to make him jump. He sat up and let out a breath, one hand resting on his stomach, and listened to Pete's familiar light footsteps climbing up the fire escape. The top of his head, shining with sweat in the noon heat, popped into Sonny's view of the window for a second before the rest of his body followed. Sonny watched the lean sinew in Pete's arms tighten as he swung over the rail with the agile ease of a dancer. He took in a breath as Pete seemed to look up in slow motion, like some kind of romantic movie, the light catching between his eyelashes and making his hazel eyes appear even brighter. Sonny's breath got stuck somewhere on the way back up his throat and he swallowed dryly as Pete grinned through the window at him.

It was all Sonny could do to keep sitting up as Pete popped out the screen and slid the window open before climbing through and flopping down on the bed next to Sonny.

"What's good, sunshine?" Sonny let out a chuckle at the nickname and shrugged his good shoulder. Pete, unable to keep still for longer than a moment, hopped up from the bed and dragged Sonny's computer chair across the room so they could sit facing each other. The open window let in just enough heat from outside to comfortably warm Sonny's bare legs. His shorts suddenly didn't seem to cover enough skin. Sonny felt exposed with Pete staring intently at him and he pursed his lips, feeling his ears and cheeks heat up under the scrutiny.

"What's bothering you, Sonny? You haven't been yourself." Pete insisted, tapping a crooked finger under Sonny's chin in an effort to get the younger man to make eye contact. "You can tell me. I want to help." He continued gently. Sonny let out the breath he had been holding and finally met Pete's intense stare.

"Don't freak. I need to show you something." Pete chuckled nervously and his crooked smile was enough to distract Sonny for a half second before he gathered his courage and pulled the bandage off his arm. It dangled against his tanktop for a second before falling off completely. For how hard Sonny had to try and look at Pete just a minute before, his eyes were now glued to the other man's face. He rotated his upper body so Pete could see his arm clearly. Sonny watched as Pete's face went from confusion as his eyes scanned over Sonny's arm, to slow realization, then awe.

Pete's lips popped open with a soft sound that made the muscles in Sonny's arm twitch. His eyebrows raised slowly and his pupils widened and Sonny couldn't breathe but then Pete was exhaling hot air onto Sonny's arm and Sonny shivered and that made Pete glance back up at his face and - holy shit.

Pete was crying.

His eyes welled up and when he blinked, a tear cascaded down his cheek and, fuck, if that wasn't the most artistic thing Sonny had ever seen in his damn life. Pete blinked again, slowly, red veins beginning to appear from the corners of his eyes. Sonny could see them perfectly as Pete sat up straighter. He'd been leaning down to look at the tattoo and now, in this new position, they were face to face, no more than three inches away from each other. This time, when Pete spoke, his breath fanned across Sonny's lips and Sonny's eyes half closed of their own accord.

"You did this.. for me?" Pete whispered delicately, as if the air around them could shatter at any second. Sonny gulped in a desperate attempt to soothe his dry throat and nodded slowly.

"I did it for me, too. I just, I love that picture so much. It's the most amazing thing anyone's ever given to me." Sonny murmured back, relishing in the soft, choked out laugh Pete let out.

"Sonny, someone gifted you, like, forty thousand dollars. I think that's a little better than-"

"Say my name again." Sonny interrupted before he could catch himself, his eyelids drooping until they were almost closed. His voice sounded low, rough, and slightly unfamiliar, but maybe his heart pounding in his ears altered his hearing. Sonny's eyes flew back open when Pete complied without question.

"Sonny." When Sonny looked up, Pete was somehow closer than before, and his gaze took on the same intensity as before. Sonny had the fleeting thought that if he could stay in this moment forever, he would; drowned in the heady smell of Pete's sweat mixed with the soapy smell of his deodorant and just a hint of smoke - proving Sonny's theory right, that Pete lied about quitting cold turkey. The heat from the last light of the day combined with the heat of the moment created new beads of sweat on Sonny's forehead and he knew his cheeks would be fully reddened by now. Sonny dragged his eyes back up from where he was staring at Pete's lips.

"Again." He demanded hoarsely. Pete was expecting it this time. He leaned forward even further, bringing his hands to rest on the bed on either side of Sonny's legs, effectively caging Sonny in. Pete tilted his head slightly and held Sonny's stare while he responded.

"Sonny. Oh, fuck it all -" and then Pete's lips were cool on Sonny's and his tongue was slipping into Sonny's mouth. Sonny's yelp was muffled and he clutched desperately at Pete's sleeveless arms. Pete was more experienced than Sonny, no surprise there, but he wasn't planning on taking it easy. His lips moved roughly at a pace so rapid, Sonny was pulling away to catch his breath far sooner than he wanted. The tight grip he had on Pete's arm held him in place long enough for Sonny to pant a few times before launching forward and connecting their lips again. Sonny bit down on Pete's bottom lip, earning a low groan from the man. Sonny grinned triumphantly around his lip and opened his eyes to find him already staring again. There was fire in his gaze, now, and Sonny felt a rush of arousal all the way down to his toes. His skin tingled as Pete maneuvered a hand under Sonny's ass, lifting the shorter man and shoving him further back on the bed. Pete toed his sneakers off and moved along with Sonny, even though Sonny let go of his lip in favor of shuffling pillows until he could lay down flat. Sonny shuddered under Pete's predatory stare, which was softened by the tear stains still on his cheeks and the grin forming on his face. Sonny returned the smile eagerly and giggled before he could stop himself. Pete hovered above him for a second before swinging a leg over Sonny's hips to straddle him.

"Pete," Sonny whispered, "what are we doing?"

"Jerking off, I hope. I could probably get off in two strokes right now and it's all your fault." Sonny simultaneously laughed and choked as Pete leaned down and angled his head to fit under Sonny's chin.

"Yes, oh, yes!" Sonny enthused as Pete attached his mouth to the juncture where Sonny's jaw met the line of his neck. Pete licked his way down and sucked mercilessly at Sonny's jugular, where his pulse raced underneath his skin. Sonny moaned and arched his back, hands finding purchase on Pete's low hanging tank top, exposing his chest. Sonny's hips connected with Pete's and the sudden friction made them both gasp. Pete nipped along Sonny's jaw and worked his way up to his mouth. Sonny whined and lifted his hips up, searching for that sweet friction again. Pete smirked and canted his hips down, grinding their clothed erections in a way that had Sonny throwing his head back and crying out. He yanked Pete back down by his shirt and Pete stumbled, falling onto the smaller man completely. Sonny reached down and wound his fingers in the belt loops of Pete's cargo shorts then held him down so there was almost unbearable pressure on both their cocks. Sonny circled his hips and bit his lip when the fabric of his boxers dragged against the sensitive head of his dick. Pete seemed to be equally far gone, he was murmuring random pet names against Sonny's neck, pausing occasionally to suck dark marks in random places on his clavicle. The room darkened with the sunset but neither of them noticed.

Pete clenched his hands into fists against Sonny's sides and his whole body tensed before he hit the peak of his orgasm and cried, "Fuck! Sonny, holy shit, baby." In his climactic haze, Pete reached down between them and palmed Sonny's dick and that was all it took for Sonny to go over the edge with a shout of his own, breathing heavily and covered in sweat from the now-suffocating heat of the room. Pete collapsed on top of him again and rested his forehead against Sonny's. They panted in unison, both chuckling even as the high of arousal wore off. After a few minutes, Sonny shifted experimentally and cringed at the stickiness he felt.

"I gotta shower, Pete." He whispered. Pete lifted his head to grin at Sonny then leaned back down to peck another kiss on his lips.

"Is that an invitation?" Sonny scoffed.

"Hells yeah, it was. You need to shower more than I do, you stink like smoke." He made a mock-disgusted face that made Pete laugh.

"Yeah, right, I didn't see you complaining no five minutes ago." Sonny bit back a smile and stuck out his tongue instead, fake gagging when Pete pressed a kiss to the tip of it.

"You nasty." Pete waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sonny's dick decided to show interest once again, not even ten minutes after round one.

"I can be, _novio_." Pete whispered, his accent giving away the fact that he wasn't fluent in Spanish and thus unaware that word had two meanings.

"You know that can mean sweetheart or boyfriend, right?" Pete flushed, finally on the receiving end of teasing, and Sonny giggled.

"Well, I mean, if you wanna be my _novio_ , like, boyfriend, uh. That's cool, dude." Pete stammered.

"Pete, you're my best friend. Mi corazón. I love you so much, I got your art tattooed on my body forever." Pete groaned at that.

"Aw, fuck, I got so distracted, I forgot! You don't even know how that makes me feel, Sonny. Like, my heart's gonna explode out of my chest or something. And my dick, too."

"Your dick's going to explode out of your chest?"

"Sonny."

"Pete."

"Just promise I get to be there for the next one, okay? Like, that shit's kind of hot. I'll draw something else for you, too, I mean, if you want." Sonny lifted his head up to kiss Pete before he could keep rambling.

"I would love that."

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on tumblr!! if you like hamilton i write that gay shit too
> 
> anentireuncookedmeatloaf.tumblr.com
> 
> this is my first fic for In The Heights but i have more planned, especially since we all need more pete/sonny and nobody else seems to be providing. i have a super angsty fic that's been cooking in my head all day. it was inspired by the first time i listened to the soundtrack, at the end of the club i didn't know there was going to be a blackout so i thought there was a shooting at the bar and i almost lost my shit i was so worried someone got hurt. thATS ALL YOU GET YOULL JUST HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL I ACTUALLY WRITE IT
> 
> AND FINALLY if you haven't seen ITH and you want to, tell me your email in the comments. i can message u a link. i have several versions. robin de jesus takes my breath away every time. i'm not saying i have a fave but sonny's my fave.


End file.
